By now people are probably tired of reading “Why I’m sad about Boston” posts. Sorry. Bear with me for one more. I was sad when the Oklahoma City Bombing occurred. All those innocent people killed. I was sad, scared, and angry on 9/11. Such diabolical evil!
But yesterday was something different. When I finished my first marathon, that was something beyond my wildest imagination of something that I would EVER do. I remember as a kid watching the start of what I assume was probably Boston. I remember thinking “It must be amazing to have the power to run that far”. 26.2 miles. Finishing the marathon was one of the most exhilarating moments I’ve ever experienced. I can hear and see the sounds like it was yesterday. Yes, there are thousands of people who have finished many, many, many marathons. For some it is as routine as pouring a cup of coffee in the morning. For me, a formerly overweight couch potato who often claimed “I’m not running unless something is chasing me and I’m out of bullets” it was a lifetime achievement. I’ve done it 4 more times since and each one is as precious to me at the last.
To have that moment taken away by a cowardly act of a hidden bastard is the most heinous act I can think of. Those people waiting at the finish line, enjoying a nice day, waiting anxiously for their loved ones and friends had their lives destroyed in one horrible instant by some evil, sick jackass. My heart and mind have been heavy all day. Selfishly, I can’t help but think if I had been there, my innocent wife who waits for me at all my races no matter what could easily have been there. That is such a scary thought. I can’t imagine what William Richard is going through. I can’t imagine how he could ever again tie on a running shoe and step out the door for a run without thinking of his little boy. To have the joy of running, the joy of the marathon, and the joy of your family taken away in one act of hideous evil is just cruel and heart wrenching.
I hope they catch the bastard that did this. And I hope he gets a proper punishment. I am moving on now. Like any marathoner, it is time to keep moving.